Baby, It's Cold Outside
by misscanteloupe
Summary: When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What better way to wreak havoc than some quality family bonding time? Swan Queen
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What can possibly go wrong? Swan Queen

**A/N: **So this one was a bit iffy to write, you guys. I lean more towards angst and drama, not humor, so I have no idea how this is going to turn out. I apologize for the crackiness. I'm also hoping to get this finished before January and work on my OTHER incomplete fics, but we'll see.

Several things to keep in mind though, I didn't know beforehand that leaving Storybrooke means you can't come back. So ignore that gaping plothole in the story. There will be a lot of those, but who cares if the show is already filled with them.

Also, there are going to be quite a few gay jokes. None of them are meant to be offensive in any way, but if they are, I promise it's not intentional.

* * *

><p>"You've gotta be kidding me," Emma groans, dropping her face to her hands.<p>

Snow claps her hands together in enthusiasm and settles her gaze to the other occupants in the room, but no one seems to be nearly as excited by the news as she is. David is giving her an encouraging smile, if a little forced. Henry is still trying to console his mother to no avail, as Emma refuses to acknowledge anyone else in the room.

And Regina... Well. Regina looks far too amused for her own good.

Snow furrows her brow at this before shaking her head. "Emma, honey, I know this might be sudden, but think about it. We'll finally be spending time together as a family!"

"I don't see what the big deal is," Henry adds, to which Snow smiles brightly. "I've never been out of town for Christmas before. Sounds like fun."

"That's because your parents aren't batshit crazy, kid. Consider yourself lucky."

Snow blanches. "Emma!"

"What? It's true!" Emma insists and finally stands. "Mary Margaret - mom. I'm urging you to reconsider. This has got to be the worst idea you ever had. And that's saying something."

"Considering they shipped their daughter to Maine, hired the wicked witch as their nanny, and nearly allowed you to be stripped of your magic, then yes. I concur," Regina drawls in a bored tone.

Emma gestures to the other woman. "You see?"

"Coming from the woman who terrorized us for the last forty years," David grumbles from the side.

"Flattery gets you nowhere, Charming."

Ignoring them both, Snow turns back to her daughter before offering her a hesitant smile. "Your father and I already have it all planned out. I thought you'd be excited."

"Excited to go to some snobby ski resort with a bunch of people who can't get their heads out of their asses? Yeah. Totally."

"Emma!"

"You would do well not to use that kind of language in front of our son, Miss Swan," Regina says, studying her nails. "He already has your repulsive eating habits."

"Oh, right. Because you're such a saint."

"It's a matter of maturity. Something you lack, apparently."

"So _I'm_being immature?"

"Ladies, ladies, please. Now isn't the time to start arguing," Snow sighs and sends an exasperated look in David's direction, who simply shrugs.

"You're right, Snow," Regina agrees with an air of finality and stands, smoothing out the wrinkles of her dress. "You're whisking my son away to some ridiculous family get together without telling me weeks in advance. And obviously I have no reason being here. I'll just take my leave."

"I wouldn't say that, Regina," Snow says. "You're coming with us, too."

Regina stops.

Turning slowly, she glares sharply at Snow and in a deep, menacing rumble, says, "I beg your pardon?"

"You're family now. And as family, you'll be joining us on our little vacation."

There's another pause in which both Snow and David hold their breaths; where Henry's too busy bouncing happily in his seat to notice his mother is about ready to set them all on fire, and Emma is silently smirking.

Finally, much to their surprise, Regina laughs.

"If you think for one _second_that I'll be joining you two idiots for some makeshift Christmas bonding time, you're out of your damn_minds_."

"Language," Emma chastises slyly.

Regina whirls on her, the makings of a fireball crackling in the palm of her hand. "Oh, I'll show you language, Swan."

"_ENOUGH!"_

All four of them stop short and turn to gape at Snow, whose gaze never wavers even as David slowly takes a step back.

"This is a _family_affair. And I will not have you two ruin it because you insist on acting like _children_," Snow exclaims. "Now, I want you both to set an example for Henry and act like adults or by god I will - I will... Well I don't know what I will do but it won't be nice."

The fireball dissipates from Regina's hand as she crosses her arms. "I'll give you a C for effort, Snow," she says wryly. "I'm practically quivering in my boots."

"Mom," Henry pleads, meeting Regina's gaze with a soft pout. "Please?"

She hesitates before sighing in defeat. "When do we leave?"

"Oh come on," Emma says, rolling her eyes. "The kid could make that face and you'd give him a spaceship. But when I do it I get a door slammed in my face."

"That's because you look like an orangutan, dear."

"Excellent," Snow pipes up, beaming. "Now that that's settled -"

"One condition," Regina says firmly, much to Snow's chagrin. "The pirate stays."

Emma arches an eyebrow. "Hook?"

"Is there another smelly pirate I should know about?"

"What's your problem with him, anyway?"

"Besides the fact that he _smells_?"

"He bathes frequently, actually."

All four pairs of eyes turn to David this time, who doesn't seem to realize what he's said until it's too late.

He ducks his head, the tips of his ears going bright red. "He's commented on it once or twice."

"Gross," Henry says, wrinkling his nose, before turning to Snow. "Can I go pack now?"

At Snow's nod, his enthusiastic '_woot!' _echoes through the apartment as he gallops up the stairs to pack.

"Well. That was fun," Snow observes, smiling a smile so painfully bright, Emma now understands Regina's urge to punch her mother in the face.

She scuffs the heel of her boot against the floor instead and sighs.

What the hell has she gotten herself into?

..

"As if it isn't cold enough in Maine," Regina mutters darkly, gathering the last of her and Henry's possessions before shoving them into the trunk. "Your imbecilic mother has to take us further up north."

"Hey, don't blame me for this," Emma defends. "You're the one who caved under the kid's puppy dog face. I mean, who _does_that?"

"I was setting an example."

"Right, by spoiling him?"

Regina glares at the blonde and promptly ignores her. She's isn't in the mood for petty banter, not when it's a cold morning in December and she's about to leave Storybrooke for the first time to go on vacation with the three banes of her existence. If anyone had told her a year ago that she'd be frolicking it up with the Charmings, she'd have laughed in their face and turned them to ash.

"All ready?" Snow announces from the driveway, clad in an oversized scarf and coat that makes the waddle in her step that much more ridiculous. Henry follows behind with baby Neal, followed by Charming.

Rolling her eyes, Regina closes the trunk and turns to face them. "It would certainly help if you would give us clear directions."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that. We'll all be riding in the same car."

"I'm sorry... What?"

Emma appears surprised by the news, too. "Wait, mom. You're kidding... Right?"

"Why would I be?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe because we have a baby, a preteen, and two grown women shoved in the backseat of a car. And you don't see a _problem_with that?" Regina seethes, straining to keep the ice from her tone if only for Henry's benefit, and failing miserably.

"We have a rental," Snow points out as though that were a viable solution. "Besides, it's all a part of the family experience!"

"To hell with your family experience!"

Later, when they're all squeezed in the backseat of a rental car - Henry's elbow jammed into her stomach because Emma insists she's claustrophobic - and Snow singing along to repeats of Jingle Bell Rock, Regina comes to the startling realization that she should've ended her life when she had the chance.

"I'm telling you, David. Santa Baby isn't on the CD," Snow remarks at one point as they're pulling away from their fifth gas station. "This is a catastrophe."

"So is that haircut, but no one ever says anything about that," Regina mutters.

The rest of the car ride is mostly silent after that.

..

"Regina."

She feels a prod on her head several hours later, when she's managed to doze off long enough to ignore her surroundings. Henry's head is settled on her shoulder, snoring softly, and she feels that irritating jab on her head again.

"_What?"_Regina hisses, snapping her gaze up to find Emma staring at her expectantly.

"I think we're here."

"About time," she grumbles. "Any longer and I'd expect you to pay for my hospital bills."

"Do you..." Emma pauses and glances out the window. "Do you notice anything... Weird about this place?"

"Besides being prodded on the side of my head like a dog. Not at all."

"I'm serious, Regina."

Regina sighs, but decides to give the blonde the time of day and follows Emma's gaze to the window. There's a lot of snow, she notices, far more than she's comfortable with after the town's encounter with the Snow Queen. They're stopped in traffic, giving Regina ample time to study the people instead.

There doesn't seem to be anything unusual about the children scattered along the sides of the roads with fuzzy hats and giant smiles. There are a variety of adults, though, many eccentric looking in one way or another; women a tad bit more masculine than others, while some of the men appear somewhat flamboyant. Men holding hands with other men, and women -

Ah.

"It appears your parents have dragged us off to the land of homosexuals."

"Uh... You mean like one of those LGBT friendly resorts?"

"Is that what they call it here?"

Ahead, Snow seems to be flipping through a brochure at a fast pace, her face scrunched in confusion. "I don't understand," she mumbles. "The ad said this place was gay friendly. That means happy, right?"

Behind her, Emma lets out a long-suffering groan.

..

The area is actually quite nice, Regina determines, after another hour of scavenging the small town and realizing they'd be stranded here whether they want to be or not.

The little town is starting to grow on her, however, despite the unusual circumstance of seeing so many gay people in one place. It's really rather refreshing.

"I think Thomas would've liked it here," Henry comments as they wait for the Charmings to finish booking their rooms.

Emma had gone to search the area for any tourist attractions, though from what Regina can see it's a whole lot of snow and mountains.

"Thomas?"

"Yeah, he's in my art class," Henry explains. "His dads are gay."

"I see," Regina mutters more to herself, and clears her throat in response. There has to be a proper way to go about this conversation.

"Henry, I hope you realize by now that there's nothing wrong with being... Gay. In the Enchanted Forest it was rarely seen outside of closed doors, but that doesn't make it any less normal."

"Yeah, I know. It's like Macklemore says. Same love," he replies, as though she should be the one to know this by now. But honestly Regina has no idea what a Macklemore is.

"Ten bucks says Emma's still in the closet, though."

Regina arches an eyebrow at this. _Closet?_

"Back," a voice carries out before Regina can question it. Emma approaches them then, wearing a too-large beanie on her head as she gestures to Henry and says, "Hey, kid. Wanna go look for Snow and David? I've gotta talk to your mom real quick."

At Henry's grumble and departure, Emma immediately turns to her. "So, how'd he react?"

"He said something along the lines of a Macklemore," Regina informs her. "Same love and whatnot."

Emma laughs. "Oh, yeah. That's our kid," she says brightly. Her eyes twinkle as she catches Regina's gaze. "You raised him well."

Regina says nothing, though secretly she's pleased, if more than a little put off by the effect Emma's smile is having on her. She ignores the flutter in her stomach and quickly changes the subject.

"Is there some sort of hidden meaning behind a closet?"

Emma furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Henry has come to the conclusion that you're still in a 'closet'," Regina elaborates. "What does he mean by that?"

Regina never thought she'd see the day Emma Swan was at a loss for words.

"Oh, uh..."

"We're all set!" David calls out from a distance, and Emma looks noticeably relieved by the distraction.

"We rented out a cabin for the week," Snow informs them as they approach, stroller in hand. "Oh, this is going to be so exciting! I had no idea the gays celebrate the holidays, too!"

Eyeing her father, Emma asks, "should we tell her?"

"All in due time, sweetheart," David replies, staring straight ahead. "All in due time."

..

The cabin, as it turns out, is much smaller than Regina had anticipated. Far smaller than her mansion, that's for certain, and quite possibly a peasant's home judging by the lack of care. It makes the thought of spending the next week with the Uncharmings all the more unpleasant.

"I get my own room!" Henry announces as he bolts inside, skidding to a stop in front of a door.

"Henry, no running!" Regina calls out, knowing the warning will only fall on deaf ears. She frowns when he skips inside, however, and proceeds to count the number of doors that don't include the bathroom.

"Snow," Regina drawls as the woman in question passes by. Her arms are filled with bags of marshmallows and Regina truly doesn't have the energy to question it at this point. "Is there a reason why there are five of us and only three bedrooms?"

"Ah, well. You see, Regina... this was the biggest cabin we could find at such a short notice," Snow explains nervously. "Since David and I are sharing and Henry's room only has a twin bed, you'll be rooming with Emma."

Regina stares at her for a long moment. "I'm sorry, Snow," she mutters in a low tone. "I must have misheard you. I know you did not just say I'll be playing roommates with the Savior."

Snow silently gawks at her as her eyes flick back and forth between Regina and the cabin.

"Oh, will you look at that!" she announces and steps uneasily around Regina. "It's time to feed Neal. I'll go do that right now."

She leaves before Regina can utter another word. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she counts down to three, followed by ten, and then repeats it in Spanish just to be absolutely sure that she isn't on the verge of strangling anyone any time soon.

"That should be all, m'am," the boy outside says to her, someone Regina assumes is the servant. Or the bellboy, as Henry calls him. Even if this is far from a hotel. "Your wife went in with the rest of your things."

Regina nearly chokes in response. "I'm sorry?" she says, clearing her throat. "My wife?"

"Yeah. The blonde one?"

This imbecile actually thought... Of all the things -

"Oh, no, no. No. You have it all wrong. We're not together," Regina insists adamantly and struggles to come up with some sort of label for them. Would they be considered friends now? Acquaintances? Magical partners?

"We're partners."

At that, the bellboy raises his eyebrows.

"Not like _that,_you moron. She's my son's birthmother," Regina snaps.

If eyebrows could go any higher, they would be all the way up to his hairline by now. And if there's anything Regina can not stand, it's the likes of anyone, especially a teenaged _servant_, mocking her.

"Never mind," she growls. "You've made yourself useful for the day, now go see your way out."

She's ready to turn in when the bellboy stops her again. "Um, m'am?"

She turns around to find the boy holding his palm out expectantly, in a gesture Regina has only come to recognize from that movie - Home Alone, she thinks it was - that Henry had forced her to watch one year.

"Ah, so you wish to be rewarded for your services."

Regina doesn't think he anticipates the bag of marshmallows being thrown at his head. But he barely manages to dodge it with a vocal yelp as it skids off to the side.

"Merry Christmas, dear," she says with a sweet smile, and then promptly slams the door.

Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What can possibly go wrong? Swan Queen

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who's commented and/or followed!

..

Emma hadn't bothered to pack a lot in the first place, but it's hard to ignore the lack of space when the room is so small to begin with. She hangs her jackets in the closet next to the bed, and then tucks her luggage in one corner to unpack later. She briefly considers at least getting her clothes out for the next day when Regina barges into the room.

"I see you've already made yourself at home," she observes with an annoyed crease of her brow.

"Uh... Regina. This is my room."

"On the contrary, Emma, this would be _our _room. Brought to you by your mother, of course."

"Wait, are you serious?" Emma asks and tries to conceal the nervousness in her face. This isn't how she had imagined her vacation starting out. "There's only one bed!"

"And I imagine I'll be getting the right side."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure that?"

"Because I've taken the honor of laying out some ground rules," Regina replies in a no-nonsense manner. "The first obviously being that you stay on your designated side. Under no circumstances should you even consider straying to mine in the middle of the night and using me as some sort of cuddle buddy."

Emma feels the tips of her ears burn as she grumbles, "I don't cuddle."

"The teddy bear says otherwise," Regina states and gestures to the bed, where Emma had placed her favorite stuffed animal - a teddy bear dressed as Darth Vader that she had gotten at a Build-a-Bear workshop during her time in New York.

"Even if I do, you're the last person I'd even go near," Emma states, crossing her arms. "You're like some prickly porcupine that likes to set things on fire. Namely me."

A pause.

"I take offense to that."

"Good," Emma says petulantly. "Anything else, your majesty?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Regina stubbornly declares, "we turn off the lights when _I'm _ready to go to bed. It's bad enough I was dragged here against my will. And please, for heaven's sake, do not tell me you snore. I have absolutely no problem throwing you out."

"And if I do? It's not like you have magic at your disposal to toss me on my ass."

"As if I need it. With all that food getting to you, I'm sure you'll just bounce right out."

Emma grits her teeth and for a second considers throwing an insult of her own. But damn it, she doesn't exactly have a comeback for that. Not when Regina's about as slim as an hourglass.

"Alright, how about this? I'll agree to the no lights policy, and I'll even throw a pair of earmuffs in if you'll stop complaining for just _one day._"

"Are you really trying to bargain with me?"

"It's that or nothing."

Regina sneers, or at least tries to, but the argument is entirely too ridiculous to take seriously anymore. And she'll technically be getting her ground rules covered anyway at the cost of keeping her mouth shut.

A somewhat simplistic feat when you don't have Snow White's traitorous mouth.

"Fine," she relents.

"Fine."

Grabbing her coat, Emma immediately sets for the door, and barely manages to hide her grin at Regina's curious -

"And where do you think you're going?"

"Out," is Emma's ambiguous reply. "Exploring. You know, things you're supposed to do when you're on vacation."

"And you just expect me to stay here and keep your parents entertained?"

"Well... You can always come with."

Regina frowns. "I think I'll pass."

"Okay then."

"Fine."

"Good."

"_Perfect_," Regina snaps just as the door slams shut, leaving her alone in a room far too quiet for her tastes.

..

Emma has no idea where she's headed when she leaves the cabin. She can only consider herself lucky that she hadn't run into either of her parents, but it's late afternoon and the sun is starting to set. She needs the fresh air if she has any chance of keeping her sanity for the rest of the night.

There are still people mulling around the streets when she reaches the little town further down by the mountainside. The cabin is at least close enough to civilization to travel at a reasonable walking distance, and by the hour she finds herself at what she assumes is a bar.

" - so it's basically what you get when you have ten lesbians and ten laid off bankers. Twenty people who don't do dick."

And judging by the jokes, it's comedy night.

"Can I get a root beer float, please?" Emma orders, signaling towards the bartender.

"Sorry, sweetheart. We're all out of root beer," the woman says, and offers Emma a coy smile. "How does a pink lady sound instead?"

The way she looks at Emma, like she's undressing her with her eyes, makes Emma flush a deep red and shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"Lay off it, Bree," a voice warns from over her shoulder. "It's bad enough you gotta be hitting on anything with two legs. Leave the poor girl alone."

The bartender merely smirks and, shrugging, moves on to the next patron. Emma turns in time to see a young woman around her age take the seat beside her. Her dark hair is raised up in a bun, placing a heavy emphasis on her dark complexion and the piercing she has on the side of her nose.

"Sorry about that," the woman apologizes, her southern accent more pronounced as she smiles at Emma. "Bree can be a little... Forward most of the time."

"It's alright," Emma says and returns the smile, if a little awkwardly. "I'm Emma. Uh... Emma Swan."

"Victoria. Most people call me Tori, though," the woman - Tori - informs her. She accepts the offered handshake with a firm one of her own before Tori grins at her.

"So, Swan. What's a baby gay like you doing in a place like this?"

Luckily Emma didn't get the chance to order anything, or she'd have spat it out by now.

Instead she chokes on her saliva and stutters, "I... What? I'm not gay."

"Coulda fooled me."

Emma immediately feels her defenses rise up. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you definitely dress the part. I don't think I ever met a girl who wore flannel and a beanie at the same time and not see a giant rainbow over her head that screams _homo_," Tori elaborates. "So closeted then? That's close enough."

"I'm not gay anything. I have a boyfriend."

"Let me guess. The guy is a complete douche and only managed to get into your pants because he wore down your walls enough to give into his bad boy charms."

At Emma's surprised glare, Tori waves her hand. "Been there, done that."

"Look, I don't know what your angle is here, but you don't know me," Emma grits out as she moves to stand up. "So I'm just going to go before I do something I'll regret."

A hand lurches up and wraps around Emma's wrist, and it takes every ounce of her self control not to rip it off.

"Wait, Swan. I'm sorry. I guess I forgot to mention that I can be a little forward, too. I wasn't trying to be an ass. I swear."

Emma hesitates as she considers ignoring the apology altogether. But it's the sincerity in Tori's expression that changes her mind, and honestly she'd rather be anywhere else but back at the cabin.

"Let me buy you a drink," Tori offers when Emma resumes her seat.

"No offense, but I'm really not in the mood to be hit on tonight."

"A _friendly _drink," Tori promises before gesturing to the bar. "Besides, I'm not one for blondes. That hot piece of ass bar tending right now? That's my girl."

"The one you just accused of hitting on anything with two legs?"

"Our relationship's complicated."

Emma nods like she understands, when in actuality she has no idea how that even works. She's had her fair share of gay friends while living in both Boston and New York, but none of them had ever been this... Eccentric.

After several drinks, and more lemon shots than Emma knows what to do with, Tori smiles at her and asks, "So what's your story?"

"My story?"

"Yeah, you know. Since you're obviously not from around here. I'm guessing you're a tourist."

"I'm here with my parents," Emma states, hoping to sound as casual as possible without giving away the fact that she's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. "My son, too. And his other mother."

At this, Tori perks up. "You don't say."

"Mhmm," Emma hums. And god. The alcohol's already starting to affect her. "My son's name is Henry. I gave him up when I was eighteen and Regina ended up adopting him. And... Man. Is she a real piece of work."

"Is she hot?"

"Hella," Emma says immediately, and immediately covers her mouth. "I don't know why I said that."

Tori laughs. "You're drunk, Swan. Slow down a bit, yeah?" Placing her drink down, she turns to face the blonde. "I thought you said you had a boyfriend."

"I do."

"But you and Regina..."

"We're not like, _together _together," Emma hastily explains with a hiccup, squinting at her drink. "She's just my son's other parent. And... You know, it's not _my _fault she's insanely gorgeous."

At this point Tori is practically chortling, grinning madly in a way that might put anyone else off. But _man_, she can't resist. It's always the pseudo straight ones that make her day, and this one's so deep in the closet she might as well bust through the back wall and walk straight into Narnia.

"No?"

"_No_," Emma determines with a shake of her head, and clumsily reaches for another drink. "That's _her _fault. For - for always wearing those stupid, fancy dresses that make her butt look -" she motions with her hands. "- like that. And her stupid face. You should see her in her Evil Queen outfit."

"Is that some kind of kinky sex thing she has going?"

"Not really. That's what people called her in the Enchanted Forest, back when she was evil and trying to kill my mom."

Tori nods knowingly. "Right..." she says slowly, and lifts the drink from Emma's hand. "Well that's enough for you, Swan. Time to get you home."

"To Regina?"

"Righty-o. And then you can have all the kinky, evil queen sex you want. How does that sound?"

"Kind of gay to be honest."

"Correction. _Hella _gay."

..

It's Snow's idea to complete her holiday shopping later that same night, which mostly consists of a trip to some new frontier called a 'Walmart.' As much as Regina regrets not having one of these back in Storybrooke - it would certainly make shopping for groceries and knitting supplies much easier - it's also short lived. She wouldn't dare touch the clothing line with a ten foot pole, for one thing.

Not to mention the people are the strangest she's ever had the misfortune of encountering. In one aisle she passes by an elderly woman dressed in a pair of ducky pajamas - despite the fact that it's barely ten at night - carrying a bag of Friskies in one hand and a jar of pickles in the other. She offers her a small smile, which Regina stiffly returns.

In another she encounters a group of Caucasian men, all mildly overweight and dressed as though it were hunting season. One glance at her and all pretenses of being civilized gentlemen are dropped.

"Hey there, pretty lady," one of them whistles, turning around fully to look at her. "What's your name?"

Another gets in her way. "What? Not gonna come say hi?"

Regina sneers.

_Chauvinistic pigs._

"You would do well to get out of my way," she says calmly, although her tone is laced with just the right amount of venom to give the man pause.

His bulky, red-haired self chuckles, however, and he leers down at her in a taunting manner.

"Or what?"

"Or I will destroy everything you hold dear. Starting with your wife, assuming that that ring on your finger is a symbol that some poor, unsuspecting woman has made the mistake of marrying a complete buffoon such as yourself. I don't suppose she'd be too happy to hear her dimwit husband enjoys making unwanted advances towards other women, hm? Or perhaps your children? Thomas is a beautiful name. Must be someone important if you were stupid enough to have it tattooed across your chest.

"So here is how this is going to work. Your entire life, my dear - your family, your career, your car, even your _dog… _I have a way of finding it all. All of it. And I will destroy you. Down to the hairs on your shriveling old head. And if you so much as lay a finger on me, mark my words. Infertility will be the least of your worries when your body is displayed on the news for the whole world to see. And I will take great pleasure in putting it in a ditch myself."

Regina smiles then, a truly wicked smile that tugs at the ends of her lips. "How does that sound?"

Wide eyes nervously meet her gaze as the man silently steps away, nearly stumbling into the opposite wall in the process.

"That's what I thought."

She leaves the aisle then in search of Snow who, predictably enough, has found refuge in the holiday section.

She's stacking up on Christmas decorations when she spots Regina's smiling face. She stops. "You look happy."

"I found my passage in life."

"Oh," Snow says slowly. "Well that's… good, I suppose."

Regina arches a brow in response, but offers a pointed glance at the cart of decorations. "I thought we came here for food."

Snow blinks, seemingly unfazed by Regina's comment until she says, "well, yes. But it's never a bad time to shop for Christmas. And look, these ornaments are on clearance already. Aren't they just precious?"

"They're hideous."

"There's no need to be so rude, Regina."

"Oh, spare me the sentiment," Regina counters and crosses her arms. "Now can we _go_?"

"Hold on. I also found these in the 'pride' area. I was thinking they could help us fit in with the gays," Snow surmises brightly, and she's holding up a rainbow flag in her hand, followed by a variety of colorful t-shirts and scarves. "What do you think?"

Regina simply stares at her.

"I think you've officially lost your mind."

Several minutes and seven peacock ornaments later, Snow scampers off with an entire cart full of Christmas decorations and absolutely no food. Regina figures it'll be up to her in the long run to keep them all fed and... Well. Alive.

Just as she's wandering toward the checkout line, she spots something near the end of the Christmas aisle and pauses. It's a swan ornament; white and feathery with little sparkling rhinestones embedded in the sides, and golden crown on its head. It's far classier than any of the abominable decorations Snow can't seem to get her hands off.

She picks it up and heads to the checkout line.

It also reminds her of Emma.

..

"Honey, I don't understand how you come back from the store with twenty different styles of peacocks, and no food," Charming surmises in a disbelieving tone. "What are we supposed to eat in the meantime?"

"There's always cannibalism."

"That's not funny, Henry."

"Lucky for you two idiots, there's this little thing called delivery," Regina says as she approaches them, tossing a stack of flyers in their laps. "Here, choose your heart attack. Tomorrow _I'll _be doing the grocery shopping. I won't have my son starve to death from your incompetence."

Regina sighs in exasperation when Henry's the first to tackle the flyers. She supposes pizza is a better alternative than _s'mores_, though not by much. She doesn't think she could stand one more night if she has to look at another bag of marshmallows again.

As the three of them argue over their options, Regina briefly wonders where Emma had run off to. And by briefly, she means standing over the window and hoping the imbecile hadn't somehow gotten herself killed.

Not that she's worried or anything.

"Has anyone seen Emma?" Snow ponders out loud.

"Congratulations, Snow. Would you like a mother of the year award for just now realizing your daughter's missing?"

Suddenly there's a knock at the door, halting whatever it was that Snow was about to say. It's David that stands up first and heads for the door, but Regina brushes past him and beats him to it.

"About damn time. What, did you get lost and -" Regina trails off once she realizes it isn't Emma on the porch. Or at least, not _just _Emma.

A young woman stands before the doorway, grinning sheepishly as she struggles to balance Emma's semi-unconscious frame over her arms.

"And just who the hell are you?" Regina sneers.

"I'm Tori," the woman in question smiles. "Sorry for intruding. I'm delivering a package. Swan here had a little too much to drink."

"Is she going to be okay?" Snow asks worriedly. As David steps up to help Emma, who's mumbling inconsequential things about dungeons, Regina takes the time to size the other woman up.

"Oh, yeah," Tori nods. "I told her not to try the vodka. She did it anyway."

"Sounds like you two had a _grand _time," Regina observes sourly. She can't explain the rush of possessiveness swelling deep in the pit of her stomach then, but it's hot and bitter and feels strangely like jealousy.

Which is absolutely ridiculous. Regina Mills doesn't _do _jealous.

"You must be Regina," Tori acknowledges her with a praising look, eyes shining in mirth. "_Damn_. Emma wasn't kidding!"

"Excuse me?"

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" Snow asks. "We're having pizza tonight."

"I'd love to, but I should probably get going," Tori admits. "When Swan wakes up, let her know we should go out for drinks again soon. She'll know where to find me."

The words are enunciated with a wink and a sly smile, and Regina has trouble not slamming the door as hard as she can. As soon as she's gone, Regina whirls around and scowls.

Across the room, Henry meets her gaze with a knowing smirk.

"Well she seems like a nice girl," Snow says sweetly.

"She's a threat and must be destroyed," Regina mutters in response, and stalks right past David as he's leaving the bedroom. Not another word is said as she shuts the door behind her.

David looks around in confusion. "What was that about?"

"Oh, you know," Henry says somewhat smugly. "Girl problems, probably."


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What can possibly go wrong? Swan Queen

**A/N: **Thank you everyone for your support! Trying to get this in before I leave to finish some holiday shopping, so sorry for any mistakes

..

The next morning Emma wakes up with a hangover to end all hangovers.

But she's half asleep, and far too comfortable to move away from whatever it is she's snuggling into at the moment. She nuzzles deeper into the softness, wisps of hair tickling her nose as she inhales the scent of apples and perfume and rainwater.

"Hmm... Mr. Snuggles..."

Emma furrows her brow. The scent is familiar, even though smells nothing like her beloved bear. Yet she finds herself pulling the object closer, reaching out a hand until it comes across a cushioned surface.

She squeezes it. The reaction is almost instantaneous; a soft, raspy moan.

A moan that definitely isn't hers.

Emma's eyes snap open in time to see herself draped over Regina's body, her palm pressed far up her silky shirt. Apparently she isn't the only one to notice either.

All it takes is Regina to stir and meet Emma's wide-eyed gaze.

And all hell breaks loose.

Regina immediately sits up. "_Emma!"_

"Oh shit."

With a screech that could be heard miles away, Regina's foot collides with her stomach. The impact sends Emma flying off the bed and onto the floor with a giant _thump._

And _damn it_, if she isn't hung over already.

She cradles her head. "_Ow._What the hell, Regina?"

"What the _hell_do you think you were doing?" Regina tosses back, peering down at her with a glare. "You couldn't follow one simple rule and stay on your side of the bed?"

"Did you really have to kick me over?"

"_One _rule, Swan."

"I was asleep!" Emma defends.

"You had your _hand _on my _breast_," Regina snarls, enunciating each syllable with a slow hiss.

"Well apparently you didn't mind so much since you _moaned_," Emma declares haughtily, only to realize the extent of her words several seconds too late.

Silence erupts.

Regina is staring at her, mouth agape, and Emma uses the pause to fully study their surroundings. Both of them are breathing heavily, but while Emma is in a pair of flannel pajamas for some reason - she doesn't _own_a pair of flannel pajamas - Regina is in silk.

But it's her flushed face that catches Emma's attention first. Followed by her heaving chest, where Emma can just make out Regina's nipples protruding from her silken pajama shirt.

And Emma?

Emma is beyond horny.

Their stare-off is suddenly interrupted by a loud bang outside the bedroom door. It flings open as David bursts through with a frying pan in hand, his sharp eyes whipping back and forth between both women until it seems to dawn on him that there's no immediate danger.

He lowers the pan. "I thought I heard someone scream. Did someone break in?"

"No offense, Dad. But there's not a whole lot you can do with a frying pan."

He glances at the pan for a moment in embarrassment. "It worked with Rapunzel," he mutters, before eyeing them both warily. "If there wasn't a break-in then what happened?"

"What happened, Charming, is that no one in your family seems to understand the concept of privacy," Regina grouses. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"I - uh -"

"It wouldn't do if you caught one or both of us naked now, would it?"

David blushes, down from his neck to the tips of his ears. "I'll... Just go now."

"You do that."

When he leaves, Emma can already feel the atmosphere shift as she struggles to think of what to say next.

"Look, Regina -"

Her words are cut off when a pillow hits her in the face.

"Ow. What was _that_for?"

"_That _was for breaking the first rule," Regina points out and gestures to the floor. "_This _is for when you make your bed tonight, where you'll be sleeping for the rest of the week."

"What? You can't do that," Emma says.

"I can and I will. Maybe next time you'll think twice before molesting me in my sleep."

"It was an _accident."_

But Regina is already out of the room, presumably to have breakfast or whatever it is people do after waking up with someone's hand on their boob.

Emma sighs heavily and shoves the pillow over her face. She shouldn't be thinking about Regina's boobs at all, and yet here she is, wondering if they're really as squishy as they had felt during that brief moment of consciousness.

And the worst part of it all?

Emma is still beyond horny.

..

It's Charming's idea to spend the day at the ski resort further up the mountain, which Snow wholeheartedly agrees to despite never having touched a pair of skis in her life.

Regina can't exactly say she has either... But that's not the point.

She bides her time early that morning by setting out to buy the necessary groceries for the rest of the week. Luckily for her, Snow doesn't make this into another one of her bonding time routines she can't get enough of. If Regina has to listen to one more Christmas chant in bird language, she can't promise she won't strangle the bird instead.

But there's one other pressing issue she won't bring herself to admit just yet.

The fact is she can't seem to get Emma Swan out of her damn head.

Of course it's Henry who notices right away.

"You okay, mom?" he asks once they're out of hearing range from the others. While Charming had gone to keep an eye on Neal for the time being, Snow is looking more like an unbalanced walrus struggling to remain on her skis. The sight is rather entertaining, actually.

Emma seems to think so as well, as she's hiding her laughter behind a gloved hand.

"Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're kinda staring at Emma like you want to jump her."

Regina tears her eyes away from the blonde woman as soon as she realizes she's staring. Turning to Henry, she wrinkles her brow in confusion and asks, "I'm sorry. What?"

"You know," he says, motioning with his head. "The frick frack."

"_The frick frack?_Henry, what in gods name are even talking about?"

"_Sex_, mom," Henry says in emphasis, looking as calm and collected as Regina's son can be. "Jeez. Get with the program, will you?"

Regina, on the other hand, looks like she's very likely about to have an aneurysm.

"You think I want to _frick frack _your _mother_?" she hisses in disbelief, earning herself a few glances from neighboring tourists. She keeps her voice down to a low growl.

"Where did you even _learn _that term?"

"Who else?" Henry states with a shrug. "Ma had the talk with me a few weeks ago, since you didn't want to do it."

"And she uses _frick frack_?"

"She couldn't say sex without blushing."

Just hearing the word come out of her son's mouth makes her face flush in embarrassment, and - _no_. Heaven forbid she has to hear it again. Frick frack will have to do.

"Henry, I don't know where you got the idea that I want to... Do _that _with Miss Swan," Regina hedges carefully. "But I can assure you that's not the case."

"Uh huh," Henry hums nonchalantly.

Regina's gaze narrows in suspicion. "Uh huh? That's all you have to say?"

"Well... What else do I have to say to convince you? You fidget a lot when she's around. You only do that hand on your stomach thing when you're nervous, by the way. Not to mention you like, make googly eyes all the time."

Regina bristles in place. "I do _not_."

"Hey, uh... Guys. I think we might have a situation over here," Emma calls out, much to Regina's relief. That is until both mother and son glance over in time to see what all the havoc is about, and... Oh.

Oh no.

Regina honestly wishes she hadn't.

"Miss, I'm going to need you to calm down," one of the instructors - someone from the resort, Regina assumes - says while attempting to calm a rapidly panicking Snow.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Snow shakes her head and quickly mutters out, "I can't. I can't do this. I'm going to die. You don't understand. _I'm too young to die_."

"On the contrary, Snow. You're older than Madonna."

Snow snaps, _"not helping,_Regina."

"Mom, seriously. You don't have to do this," Emma says, taking a step forward.

"But I do," Snow inhales shakily. "In case I don't make it, sweetheart, tell your father... tell him I will haunt him for the rest of his life if he ever touches my china set again."

With that said, she takes a deep breath and mutters, "goodbye cruel world."

"Wait, mom -"

"_M'am, you only have one ski on -"_

But Snow has already launched herself over the edge, her loud screams echoing through the snow-covered mountain, resembling those of a banshee's. She topples over her single ski immediately after jumping, her screeches growing more and more prominent as she flips onto her back and slides the rest of the way down.

Straight into a tree.

"_Ohhhh._" All four of them wince. While the instructor takes the initiative first and calls out for Snow, Regina simply palms her face in her hands and silently shakes her head.

God forbid she survive Christmas vacation with these morons.

"I'm okay!" Mary Margaret yells out a moment later. Her body is succumbed in snow, but she waves her ski in the air in reassurance.

"Five bucks says she'll want to go again," Henry whispers to his blond mother.

"Kid, you don't even _have _five dollars," Emma mutters back, but she's glancing at Mary Margaret again and suddenly a slow smile curls at her face. "You're on."

..

As it turns out, Snow stays behind to watch Neal at David's insistence, claiming that she's just going to get herself killed if she ever tries something so stupid again. And so begins a passive aggressive argument between them that garners the attention of more than half of the resort.

"Do you think we should stop them?" Henry asks.

Emma, having watched most of the encounter before giving up at eleven minutes, shakes her head. "Nah. Let them have at it. Every couple fights eventually. Even Snow White and Prince Charming."

At that, Henry smiles slyly. "What about the Evil Queen and the Savior?"

Emma blinks before whipping her head around to face him. "What're you trying to say, kid?"

"Oh nothing."

"No, no. Enlighten me."

"I owe you five bucks now, right? Don't you think it's a bit much that you're taking money from a poor kid?" he says instead.

Emma stammers for a second, confused by the abrupt change of subject until the words actually hit her.

"Poor _my ass_."

In the end Emma eventually puts her foot down, and Henry reluctantly agrees to pay for his end of the deal with services that include, but aren't limited to, doing the dishes, letting Emma use his xbox, and keeping his little trap shut when the time calls for it.

That one might be a little closer to unlikely than the xbox.

"Hey, ma. Isn't that the girl who brought you back to the cabin last night?" Henry points out.

Emma follows his gaze to see Regina waiting by the restroom, looking more pissed than usual, with her arms crossed and her face pinched. But what grabs Emma's attention is the woman next to her; the same one she had met at the bar last night.

And god. Can this day get any worst?

"Swan!" Tori calls out and waves at her. "Long time, no see. I was just telling your _friend _here about our good time last night. Isn't that right, Regina?"

If possible, Regina's face grows even more pinched. Emma would think she's plotting the other woman's demise if... Actually. That's more than likely happening right now.

"Tori," Emma begins hesitantly. To be honest she doesn't remember much from last night. Must be why she'd woken up completely hung over with her hand on Regina's boob.

"What're you doing here?"

"I work here part time when I'm not at the bar," Tori responds casually. "I saw you guys and figured I could take you out to dinner. You know, meet your kid and the _other mom_."

What's with the emphasis?

"I'm not sure that's a good -"

"Absolutely not."

"Sure!" Henry pipes up with a wide smile, causing all three of them to turn to him; both his mothers with looks of absolute horror on their faces, and Tori with absolute delight.

"You must be Henry," she beams and shakes his hand. "I'm Tori. I don't know if your mom's told you this, but I've made it my mission to make sure you guys enjoy your stay. And trust me, dude. You and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

Henry's answering smile could make angels sing.

"So how's about that Asian place down by 45? My treat."

Henry turns to Emma then, showering her with a toothy grin. "I like her," he whispers.

Emma glances at Regina, seeing the other woman coil up in rage as she glares holes into Tori's head.

Emma sighs. "Well, kid. That makes two of us."

..

The ride to the restaurant is about as awkward as the meeting. They make it to a place called 'Chow Chow,' much to Henry's excitement and Emma's slight reluctance. It helps that Henry and Tori seem to be getting along well. She wishes she could say the same about Regina, who hasn't said a single word the entire ride there.

They take their seats, Henry beside Tori - at his insistence - leaving Emma to sit beside Regina and _oh man._If this wasn't already awkward before.

"So..." Tori begins with a grin, breaking the silence. "How did you guys all meet? Swan here told me Henry was already adopted out before she found him."

"Did she now? I assume she told you _all _about her little adventures as well," Regina remarks out of nowhere.

Emma's gaze flicks between them both, eyes wide.

"Well not _all_of them," Tori says somewhat smugly. "But you know. The good stuff."

Regina grits her teeth before thrusting her bag in Emma's stomach, ignoring the blonde's answering '_oomph.'_

"Emma, hold my bag. I need to use the ladies room."

"Uh... Sure. Do you want me to hold your coat, too?"

Regina merely huffs and leaves without another word.

"Emma, why don't you try the _whipped _special," Tori offers, eyes downcast as she flips a page in the menu. "Doesn't that sound good? Or maybe Regina. A girl like her might like something _whipped_."

Emma whirls on her. "Okay, what exactly is your angle here?"

Tori stares back innocently. "Angle? Why, no angle at all."

"Oh, cut the bullshit. You've been throwing out these weird hints this whole time. I mean, are you trying to prove a point? Is that it? Because let me tell you, it sure as hell isn't working."

"Come on, ma," Henry adds. "We're just having some fun."

"And _you_," Emma motions to her son. "_You _stay out of this. You're just as bad as she is."

Tori slumps into her seat and grumbles, "Jeez. Can't a girl play a little Cupid around here?"

"_Cupid_?" Emma echoes.

Before anyone can respond, one of the waiters stops by their table - a small Asian man with a heavy accent.

"Welcome to Chow Chow restaurant," he greets them. "My name is Chao. Would you like to try our whipped special today?"

It's at this point that Henry and Tori burst out laughing, and Emma begrudgingly sinks further into her booth.

Because yeah, today _can _get much worst.

..

"Hmm... This special is actually pretty good," Tori notes to herself, slurping up a large forkful of noodles. "Almost tastes like a delectable swan."

The end of Regina's fork stabs right through her chicken, but otherwise she says nothing more. Emma, to her credit, has no idea what to do in this situation, or even why Regina is taking all of Tori's jests to heart.

She's gotten used to Tori's flirtations by now. But Regina? Regina has no reason to be this bothered by them.

"Do they have this kind of food in the south?" Henry questions. "I've never been down there."

Tori nods her head enthusiastically. "Oh yeah. Obviously not as great as up here, but you manage. If anything you see a lot of pretty ladies."

"So you're gay then?" Henry asks.

"As a daffodil," Tori responds with a wry smile. "My mom used to say that to embarrass me when I was younger. Especially around all the pretty blonde ones with their beanies and leather jackets. Kinda like you, Swan."

Beside her, Regina tenses and makes a show of gripping her fork tighter. Emma narrows her eyes.

"I thought blondes weren't your type."

"Are you kidding me? Of course they are! In fact, just the other day I met this one chick who's into role play and dungeons. Fairytales and all that. _Kinky, _huh?"

"Gross," Henry mumbles.

But the memory strikes Emma instantly, and she flushes down from her ears to her neck.

Tori grins salaciously. "Yeah, my girlfriend didn't think so."

At that, Regina perks up and clears her throat. "I'm sorry. Did you just say girlfriend?"

"Oh... Did I forget to mention that?" Tori tilts her head, though there's absolutely nothing innocent about the gesture, Emma thinks bitterly. "Her name's Bree. Three years going strong."

And just like that, the tension seems to drift away from the table as quickly as it had come; mostly on Regina's part, who relaxes in her seat and actually _smiles_. Like a full blown, not at all bitchy _smile_.

"That sounds nice," she says.

"Yeah," Tori agrees gently, looking far too lovesick to notice anything else. "It is."

Emma shares a glance with Henry, who just shrugs smugly and continues eating his noodles. And Emma really just wants to tear her hair out because -

_What the fuck._

Women are going to be the death of her.

..

"Thanks for dinner, Tori," Henry says as he gets out of the car, and moves to high five her. "I'll see you around!"

"You betcha, little man," Tori grins and watches as he makes a beeline for the cabin.

Regina is next to offer the woman a stiff nod, but there's a smile around her lips that can only be described as genuine.

"Yes... Thank you for dinner, Miss..."

"Just Tori's fine," she says with a wave of her hand. "And anytime. It was a pleasure."

Regina nods again, this time awkwardly, before following her son back to the cabin. Emma allows her gaze to linger after her before she realizes she's staring again, not that it matters to Tori, whose eyes could just about roll out of her head.

These two are the biggest idiots she's ever met. But at least they make things a hell of a lot more interesting around here.

"I hope you aren't too angry about the whole dinner thing," Tori says after a moment. "You know I wasn't actually _trying _to get into your pants, right?"

"I figured," Emma replies and stares down at her feet. "I still don't get what you were trying to achieve, though. Piss Regina off even more?"

"Seriously?" Tori exclaims in disbelief. "Did you even think about _why _she was pissed in the first place? That woman has got the biggest hots for you, Swan. I'm kind of surprised it hasn't scorched you yet."

Emma wrinkles her brow. "What're you talking about?"

"_Jesus_. You really are a blonde, aren't you?" Tori states, exasperated. "I mean she was _jealous_. Of _me_. Because she wants to be the one to fuck you senseless. And you're over here, clueless as a fucking brick, when really you want to take her up against a wall just as badly as she does."

"You think I - I already told you I'm not gay," Emma insists, but the argument sounds weak even to her own ears.

"Whatever makes you sleep at night," Tori proclaims, and there's something scary about how humorless the words sound. "But I'm telling _you_, Swan, that you need to get your head out of your ass soon. Or someone else is going to come and sweep her off her feet."

She turns around, but then turns right back with an equally vibrant, "And just so we're clear, since you're up here acting like a female version of a fuckboy and all. Sexuality's like taking a uhaul down the rainbow brick road. You can like boys, you can like girls, you can like hot people and not stamp a label on yourself. _Or _you can like Regina. It's all about finding your way there and, you know, maybe _not _giving a shit about what society tells you. Because who really cares about the assholes when you've got your own life to look forward to?

Finally Tori clears her throat. "Alright, that's it for the night. Guess I'll see you around, not-lesbian."

This is enunciated with a knowing look as she ducks into her car, the wheels screeching in the night air before Emma can think to utter another word. And oh yeah.

She's fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What can possibly go wrong? Swan Queen

**A/N: **Sorry about the wait you guys. It's been a busy few days and I've been kind of stuck on this chapter, or the next one actually. Hope you all had a great holiday!

The chapter had to be split because the beginning didn't really coincide well with the rest of it, so apologies for the length. Good news is the next one is longer.

Thank you to everyone who's been enjoying this so far. Hopefully it doesn't matter that Christmas is over and you're still willing to read :)

..

Snow is placing decorations along the walls when Regina enters the cabin, and she stops short with the dreadful realization that most of the ornaments are either hideous or cheap replicas from Walmart. Mostly both. As she's finishing up hanging a whale from the ceiling - a whale with a Santa hat of all things - Regina takes the opportunity to break the soft droll of Christmas music playing in the background.

"What does a _whale_have _anything _to do with Christmas?" she drawls, because in all honesty, the thing is an eyesore.

At least Regina can take some pleasure in startling the other woman as Snow jumps.

"It was on sale," Snow explains in defense and stares at it fondly. "I thought it would bring a unique touch to the cabin."

"I think you mean ugly."

Tying up the loose strings, Snow steps down from the counter and places her hands on her hips. "We all have our opinions."

"Its not an opinion, Snow. It's fact," Regina says with a sigh. "Nonetheless, we're only staying here for a week. What on earth made you think this was a good idea?"

"I read about it online," Snow says matter-of-factly. "An article, actually. Ten things white people do on Christmas, whatever that means. I thought the ideas suited us."

"I'm not entirely sure what to say to that."

"Well, maybe _you_can stop being a grinch for one second and help me put these up on the tree. I have a grinch mask and I'm not afraid to use it," Snow indicates before shoving a box of ornaments into her hands.

Regina stares down at the box. "A tree," she says slowly.

"Yes. David bought an artificial one. We thought we could bring it back with us and use it again next year."

"Let me guess. You also drizzled it with pine spray to give it the impression of a real tree."

Snow looks surprised for a moment. "Actually... Yes," she says, brow creased. "Did you read the article, too?"

Regina simply takes a deep breath and silently walks past her, box of tacky ornaments in hand. She spots Charming and Henry in one of the bedrooms, laughing along with a gurgling Neal. The scene makes her chest tighten for the strangest reason and she quickly sets out to the lounge area, where there is indeed an artificial tree standing in its premises.

Regina sneers at it. Only the Charmings would buy a fake tree.

One by one she begins to hang the ornaments, most of which are a variety of different colored peacocks. There are several glass balls and an unusual collection of rainbow decorations in there, too.

She pauses when she comes across the swan ornament she had purchased the night before. Its fragile wings are slightly bent from the trip back, but otherwise it's still in mint condition.

"That one's pretty," a voice observes from over her shoulder. She turns to find Emma eyeing the ornament with an awkward smile, and Regina would never admit she finds it kind of adorable.

"It's like the only decoration my mom got that isn't... Ugly."

Regina snorts. "That's because she wasn't the one to pick it out. I was."

Emma stares at her for a long moment. "So you chose a swan queen?"

"It's a swan," Regina remarks blankly.

"No... It's a swan _queen_. See the crown on its head? I bet you were thinking of me when you bought it, too."

"I did not," Regina lies.

"Uh huh," Emma mutters disbelievingly. "Well it makes for a cool alias if anything. If we ever want to combine our names, you know. Get it? Swan." She gestures to Regina and grins. "Queen."

Regina rolls her eyes. "Is this what you do in your spare time? Let me guess. You and the pirate would have some ridiculous combination like hooked swan. Or perhaps dumb and dumber?"

"Funny. And no. It'd probably be something like... captain swan," Emma says, sparing her a wry look. "Something stupid like that."

"You're right. That is pretty stupid."

At that Emma outright laughs, a bright, enthusiastic laugh that makes her face light up and Regina's insides churn. She's been doing her best to ignore the giant elephant in the room, but the fact is there's no mistaking the nauseating emotions welling up inside her.

God forbid she have a chapter in her story that doesn't involve heartbreak and misery.

"Mind if I do the honors?" Emma motions to the swan ornament still in Regina's hand.

Regina shakes her head. "Be my guest."

Handing it over, she watches as Emma's eyes linger on the tree, before settling on a branch up near the top. Regina then leans over and plugs the extension in, peering up just in time to see the lights flicker on and burn brightly among the rest of the Christmas ornaments.

Regina nods approvingly. "Not bad."

It's nowhere near as brilliant as the tree she has back home, unused now that she had been dragged into this blasted vacation. But even the disastrous peacocks aren't too difficult to ignore.

"You can almost say I make up for Snow's horrendous taste."

When Emma doesn't respond, she glances over to find the blonde openly staring at her. The knowledge makes Regina's skin crawl in both wariness and anticipation.

"Take a picture, dear. It might last longer," Regina says. "Or draw me like one of your French girls if you'd rather. Whatever it is you're into these days."

Emma flushes. "Uh... Regina. Do you even know what that means?"

"I was under the impression that everyone in this godforsaken miserable realm has seen Titanic, Emma."

"Right..." Emma trails off, and sheepishly runs a hand over her neck. "Sorry. For staring I mean. It's just... For a moment there you looked..."

Regina's lip twitches. "Go on," she urges.

But before Emma can finish, her cellphone rings - an obnoxious tune that causes the hairs of Regina's neck to prickle with irritation.

_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest_

_Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum_

_Drink and the devil had for the rest_

_Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum_

Emma glances at her phone before meeting Regina's eye in embarrassment.

"A pirate song for your pirate boyfriend," Regina drawls in disinterest, though truthfully the urge to kill said pirate is quite strong. "How original."

"It was all Killian's idea. I had nothing to do with it."

"Of course you didn't. Just make sure to tell _Killian _that if he wishes to compensate for his absence, he should do it in ways that don't include random phone calls throughout the day and a pathetically fragile manhood."

Regina then turns on her heel and stalks to the bedroom, the bitter taste of jealousy boiling in her veins. Not that she would ever admit to it, inwardly or otherwise. She would gladly kill the pirate herself if it meant ridding the world of further trash.

"Regina, wait."

"No, Emma. I don't think I will," Regina states and turns to face Emma just outside the bedroom door. "So here is what you're going to do. You are going to take a pillow, and you're going to place it on that sofa over there, where you'll be sleeping for the unforeseeable future. Is that understood?"

Emma blinks and opens her mouth. "I, uh..."

"Your presence is starting to grate on my nerves. Plus I prefer to sleep in the nude and I can't do that with you there, can I?"

If possible her jaw drops further towards the ground. "Nude?" Emma squeaks. "As in like, naked?"

Regina takes a step forward. "Bare as the day I was born."

"No clothes?"

Taking another step forward, Regina manages to leave several inches between them before slowly enunciating, "None. At. All."

The exchange quickly turns into a stare-off, one where there seems to be a spark in Emma's eye that's driven between conflicted and predatory - as though she's more than ready to shove Regina against the door and have her way with her. And Regina simply returns the stare with all the poise of a queen.

Finally Regina steps away, severing the tension.

"Sweet dreams, dear," she husks with a devious smile and closes the door behind her.

..

And Emma is left staring after her, lost in a trance-like state for several moments until she's hit in the head with a mistletoe.

Literally.

"Ow, what the -" she whirls around to find Henry's head poking up from behind the couch. "Kid, _seriously_? What is it with you and your mom and _throwing _things at people's heads?"

Henry just shrugs. "I was trying to get your attention."

"With a _mistletoe_?"

"I missed. I was aiming for mom, too."

Emma shakes her head in disbelief and contemplates diving over there with a head whammy of her own. Instead she ignores Henry's grin - _conniving little shit _- and leans over to pick up the mistletoe. Its evergreen leaves are faded and seem to mock Emma.

She holds it up between her fingers, giving him a pointed look. "Wanna explain?"

Curling his lip between his teeth, he says, "you and mom were getting _awfully _close there. I figured I'd share the holiday spirit."

"Holiday spirit?"

"Mhmm."

"Oh yeah? Wanna know what else is _awfully _close?" Emma counters sardonically and allows the mistletoe to fall back on the floor. "A good old-fashioned wedgie."

Henry's eyes widen. "You wouldn't."

"I _would_."

He hesitates, and then makes a run for it.

..

And if Emma ends up chasing him all the way down to the porch before managing to tackle him in a fit of laughter and a well placed wedgie just like she promised, well then.

That's okay, too


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What can possibly go wrong? Swan Queen

**A/N: **Unbeta'd because I'm lazy. Considering there are two updates, don't forget there's a chapter four.

..

The following morning Emma wakes up to the sun shining brightly in her eyes, and she releases a groggy groan before nuzzling into the pillow. Luckily she's semi awake enough to realize she hadn't gone to the bedroom the night before, and therefore there's no way she's about to be kicked on her ass for unintentional boob grabbing this time.

Her slumber is interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing, echoing sharply in the cold morning air.

_Fifteen men on a dead man's chest_

_Yo ho ho and a bottle of -_

"Go _away_, Hook," she grumbles before tossing the phone over her head. It clatters against the floor, where it continues to ring until it finally stops.

She stares at the ceiling.

While it's true that she's been ignoring Killian's calls since last night, there's no point in denying anymore that Emma hasn't exactly been giving him much thought for the last few days either. Since the start of this vacation her mind has been preoccupied by thoughts of surviving the rest of the week, not to mention the ongoing rant she has going in her head that echoes Tori's words from the night before.

And really. It's almost like Hook just doesn't exist in this story at all.

"Relationship problems?" she hears David's voice drift in.

Emma sighs and, lifting the pillow from her face, offers a faint, "I wouldn't say that. Hook's just been... Clingy lately -" she trails off once she catches sight of her father, and all thoughts of Hook vanishes as quickly as she says, "What the hell is _that?_"

She doesn't mean for it to come out so mean, but the last thing she expected was to see her father dressed as the Grinch. His green, fur-clad assemble is complete with a Santa sweater and red elf shoes, along with a mask that Emma can honestly say is the scariest thing she's seen since Regina in her evil queen outfit.

And definitely not for the same reasons.

David sighs and makes to move, except Emma manages to catch an even creepier angle of the mask and she flinches. Seeing this, he takes the mask off instead.

"Your mother," is all David says. "And I'd rather not talk about it."

"What did you even do for her to get you to wear _that_?"

"I said," he repeats slowly, his voice laced in pain. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You know you look like something straight out of a horror movie, right?"

"I realize that, Emma. But thank you."

Emma simply shrugs as David proceeds to cover his face back up in shame, sending her a curious look when her phone begins to ring for the fifth time that morning.

She really needs to reconsider the ringtone.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offers in sympathy.

"Not really."

"Alright..." David shifts awkwardly. "What about your eggs? Do you want them scrambled or sunny side up?"

"Don't care."

"Why are you sleeping on the -"

"Kinda don't want to talk about that either, David."

Her voice is muffled from the pillow she's thrown over her face, but she can already imagine David standing uncomfortably in the same position, completely unsure of what to say or do to comfort his already fully grown daughter. An already fully grown daughter who's currently acting like a teenaged girl.

"Just let me know know if you need anything," he says and makes a quick haste for the kitchen.

Emma grunts in response, but doesn't bother removing her face from the pillow. That is until she hears the familiar click of a door opening and raises her eyes just enough to catch a good glimpse of Regina exiting the bedroom. She pads barefoot across the hallway, and Emma can practically feel her heart lurch straight out of her chest when she realizes Regina is only wearing a white silken bathrobe.

Nothing else.

Emma gulps and slides the pillow a little lower. She manages to get a better view of Regina's attire this way, or lack thereof, and the smooth planes of her stomach and breasts when Emma's caught gawking midway. Regina's gaze meets hers and Emma imagines she looks completely ridiculous, wrapped up in Henry's Avengers blanket and face half hidden in some perverted display of a peeping tom.

"Enjoying the view?" Regina asks, and she sounds annoyed. But the smirk over her face says otherwise.

Finally Emma tears her gaze away and thrusts the pillow back over her face. "No idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't."

Emma ignores her, and counts down the seconds until she hears Regina's feet pad away. That's when she releases the breath she's been holding and she silently curses herself for the throbbing heat curling between her thighs.

She's _not_ about to jill off like some horny teenaged kid.

Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of a shrill cry and a crash.

"_Ow_, Regina! Stop! It's just me!"

Another crash.

"My _frying pan?_"

And Emma just groans and burrows deeper in the couch.

Mood officially ruined.

..

"The Christmas festival isn't until another few days," Snow surmises thoughtfully, gathering her bags in her hands. "What do you girls propose we do in the meantime?"

"Perhaps you can consider _not _dressing up as a tellytubby next time you drag me out for some 'girl time'," Regina offers in a bitter tone. "And when I say next time, I mean never."

Snow looks mildly offended by that. "These are pride colors, Regina. I'm only trying to show my support for the gays."

"And how exactly would anyone take you seriously when you're dressed like a walking popsicle?"

Several feet away, Emma strides behind them with a frown, having stopped listening to the two of them bicker for the last twenty minutes. It's bad enough that she'd have to endure her own bickering with Regina on days where they would clash - which is most days, really - but the three of them together, and on a shopping trip no less?

It's a catastrophe waiting to happen.

While David had taken Henry and Neal along for some 'man time', Emma had gotten the shorter end of the stick and was dragged off in the midst of Snow's shopping adventure. Along with Regina's endless snark, Emma has no idea how much longer she has before she ends this vacation prematurely and rips her hair out.

"You've been awfully quiet, sweetheart," Snow observes after a moment. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," Emma grumbles.

"It seems as though the Savior needs a little cheering up," Regina says, crossing her arms. "What do you think, Snow? A Santa hat? Elf ears? That hideous mask you've donned your husband?"

"Right, like you look so chirpy yourself," Emma snips back. "What're you even shopping for? A bag of coal?"

"I'm shopping for _Henry_, for your information. Unlike someone else I know, who hasn't spared a single thought for anyone but herself."

"I've bought _plenty _of gifts!"

Snow's gaze jumps between them. "Uh, ladies..."

Before Regina can snark back, Emma's phone rings in her pocket, the pirate song she's now intimately familiar with breaking whatever argument that had been about to form. And for once Emma is grateful. That is until she sees Regina glare aimed directly at her face and, man. If looks could kill, Emma's pretty sure she'd be buying herself a one way ticket straight to hell.

"Are you going to get that?" Regina sneers.

Emma feels her face grow warm before she snaps, "Maybe I will."

Ignoring Snow's questioning gaze, Emma marches off without another word. She's a good distance away, however, with her thumb hovering above the answer key, when Emma ends the call instead. The image of Hook disappears from her screen and is immediately replaced by silence, a welcoming result that leaves her feeling both guilty and relieved.

"Later," Emma promises in a whisper, and turns off her phone. "I'll answer later."

But then why, she thinks, does she feel like she's just lying to herself?

..

If there's anything that Regina has never had the luxury of discovering in the modern world, it's that you should never stumble into the perfume department days before Christmas. Not in a crowded mall. And especially not in an oversized department store by the name of 'Macy's.'

And yet here she is, following Snow White around like some lapdog and grinding her teeth to the idea of the revolting pirate somehow worming his way into this equally revolting vacation. The mere thought of him falling into Emma's good graces has her blood boiling once again, for reasons she isn't quite ready to admit just yet.

At the very least this newest frontier is several steps up from Walmart.

"Oh, Regina. Look! Aren't those shoes just adorable?" Snow exclaims excitedly and tugs on the other woman's arm, to which Regina stares in disbelief. "Do you think Emma would like them for Christmas?"

She disappears before Regina can utter another word, leaving her to fend for herself. The nauseating Christmas music alone already has her head pounding, not to mention the people scattering around like ants in a maze.

If this is the result of society turning a holiday into a commercialized sham, she would gladly remain within the closed walls of Storybrooke for the rest of her miserable life.

"Sample, miss?" an employee offers her as she walks by - a rugged-looking man with a rather handsome smile, Regina grudgingly admits. "It's the newest Chanel fragrance. Though I'm sure someone as beautiful as you would hardly have any need for it."

Regina eyes the sample warily and sniffs in distaste. "If this is your idea of salesmanship, I'd say you were doing an abysmal job."

"A pity," he says as he ducks his head coyly. "It's almost as though I'd rather be here speaking to you instead."

Regina frowns. Although it's been a long while since she's been propositioned for anything, never mind the entire fiasco with Robin Hood, she recognizes the signs of flirtations for what they are.

She narrows her eyes. "Are you... hitting on me?"

"That depends," the man answers and smiles crookedly, this one holding a striking resemblance to Emma's that Regina actually falters. "If I said yes, would you give me a name to go with that lovely glare?"

Before Regina can respond, her phone rings, and she answers it hastily with a finger held up towards the man.

"Snow."

"Regina," Snow's greets cheerfully. "You have to come look at these prada shoes. They're to die for!"

"I'll be there in a minute, darling. I was just on my way to find something for the kids. Did you find the engagement ring I wanted?"

There's a long, foreboding pause on the other end that sets Regina's nerves on high alert. If she didn't know any better she'd say Snow has officially dropped dead.

"Regina?" Snow finally squeaks.

Ah. So not dead. How unfortunate.

"Yes, a nice young man was just showing me a new perfume I think you would like," Regina informs her and smiles wickedly. "Perhaps I should try it on and see just how much. Tonight. But try not to get too carried away, dear. You know how the neighbors get when you scream."

Beside her, the salesman's eyes widen comically.

"_Oh_," comes Snow's dawning reply, with absolutely no qualms about the implication of it all. "I see what you're doing. We're pretending to be a lebanese couple."

Regina's brow furrows. _Lebanese?_

"What should I call you, then? Anything but sugar bear, of course. That one's David's. What about sweetie pie? Honey muffin... or maybe snuggie bunny."

"That sounds," Regina chokes out, "wonderful."

"Do the lebanese use nicknames?"

"You keep using that word, Snow, but I don't think it means what you think it means," Regina grinds out, holding the bridge of her nose. "I have to go."

"Oh, wait. What about love nugget -"

Regina hangs up and casts a dark glare in the salesman's direction, who shifts around uncomfortably and offers a pained smile.

"Sounds like a lovely -"

"Not now, peasant," Regina interrupts and shoves past him. She doesn't last ten seconds until the next salesperson approaches her - a woman this time - who stares at her in terror.

"I'll take two of whatever it is you're selling," Regina declares in a regal tone. "And in the meantime you and the rest of you spineless twits will assist me in my holiday shopping. Is that understood?"

The woman nods mutely and scampers away.

..

Emma doesn't know what to expect when she enters the dingy little store at the edge of the mall, but she figures it's the most help she's going to get when everything else is off her budget range.

So when she sees the boy behind the counter - aside from all the piercings he reminds Emma eerily of an older version of Henry - she approaches him.

"I need help," is all she says as she tries to calm her breathing. She's been all over the mall trying to find a suitable gift, from Victoria's Secret to the store on the first floor that sells rugs. And god.

She hates Christmas shopping.

The boy raises a pierced eyebrow in amusement. "Okay... what do you need?"

"I think I might be a little in love with my son's mother and I need to get her something that'll make her hate me less," Emma quickly explains, throwing away any semblance of secrecy out the window. She had tried that at Victoria's Secret and the employee had brought out a cat and mouse lingerie set instead.

"Or... not hate me at all, if that's possible," she finishes lamely.

"Um... okay," the boy - Shane, his name tag states - drawls. "You know, with that figure I'm sure you'd land yourself a man in no time, love. Not sure if that works with lesbians, though."

"We're not lesbians."

Shane narrows his eyes at this. "But you're..."

Emma pauses and considers it for a moment. Aside from the occasional attraction here and there, she had never held any sort of romantic attachment towards another woman. Not since, well, Lily. But in any case that had been over fifteen years ago. She hasn't exactly been too inclined to date men, either.

And from what she knows Regina has only ever had two love interests.

"Regina isn't," Emma answers with a shrug. "I'm... I just like Regina."

It doesn't answer any of the questions still lingering in the back of her mind, but as it turns out it's enough for the boy behind the counter to snap his fingers and say, "I know just the thing."

He leaves and comes back a moment later with a small box in his hand, and Emma stares at it like it's one of those crude jokes Henry had once made about a dick in a box.

Which... this isn't too far off.

"That's a vibrator," Emma says slowly.

"And from what I hear, it works wonders," Shane offers matter-of-factly. "Free gift wrap and everything."

"Did you miss the part where I said this is my son's mother? Why the hell would you try to sell me a vibrator?"

"Well that's what you get when you walk into Spencer's, love," he states, rolling his eyes. "And to be honest, you reek of sexual frustration. I'm half expecting you to explode in a cloud of magical pheromones."

"_Excuse me?_"

"We also have a detachable strap-on. That comes with a free wristband." He holds up a rainbow wristband in his hand, one with the words Santa's Pride inscribed on the front. Snow would probably like it.

Emma stares at it before letting out a long, suffering sigh.

"You know what? I'll just take both."

..

Regina doesn't have nearly the sufficient amount of strength to carry her bags by the time she's done with Macy's, not to mention the Nordstrom across the mall, and the Gamestop that leaves little to no room in the car. It's safe to say that they'll be getting another rental car by the end of this trip.

Snow has long since disappeared again in favor of gushing over the small children taking photos with Santa Clause. Of course, the imposter underneath the guise is nowhere the same as the Saint Nicolas from her world - why Americans must portray everyone as so _pale_is completely lost on her.

"Think we're ever going to get out of this mall?"

She turns in time to see Emma approaching with a small bag in her hands, and looking faintly embarrassed as she tries to hide it by her side.

"Ask your mother," Regina grumbles, eyeing the bag curiously. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere," Emma immediately responds and blushes further when Regina turns her gaze to her. "Just... you know. Shopping around."

"Yes, I see you've managed to do something productive with your time for once."

"Right. Productive."

Her face is still a curious shade of red, and Regina contemplates whether to ask what's in the bag when the blonde seems to be holding it in a life threatening grip. But the urge vanishes just as quickly when she hears the faint murmuring of a _ho ho ho_and suddenly feels a firm hand on her backside.

Rage swells in Regina's chest, but before she can remember she no longer has the ability to conjure up fireballs, Emma is at her side.

"Hey!" Emma calls out angrily, dragging the attention of one of the imposter Santas - how many are there? - as he's walking by. "What the hell is your problem?"

The man in question is clad in that ridiculous red outfit, much younger looking despite the white beard covering his face and the pair of spectacles.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says gruffly, somehow managing to draw out the rage with a subtle wink in Regina's direction.

"Like hell you don't," Emma snaps back. "What? Do you go around groping little kids, too?"

Immediately sensing the tension, Regina takes a step towards Emma, grabbing the other woman's forearm before the blonde thinks of doing anything stupid.

"Emma. Don't."

"Look, lady. I'm not here to start any problems," Santa affirms with a crossed look. "I'm just here doing my job."

"And you think that includes grabbing some random woman's ass?"

She squeezes Emma's forearm, though the result is less than successful when Emma tugs her arm free and maintains her rigid stance.

"Like I'd ever touch a pair of dykes," the man responds in a lewd manner.

Regina assumes it's that final statement that becomes Emma's breaking point, if the tensing beneath her hand is anything to go by. But Regina is too far gone in her own anger to really notice.

Releasing Emma's arm, she promptly thrusts a well-placed knee in between the man's thighs. The resulting wail is enough to bring a smile on Regina's lips as the Santa imposter keels over, a hand furiously tending to his crotch.

Regina's gaze lands on Emma, who stares at her in both wonderment and surprise.

"_You crazy bitch."_

Whatever sense of excitement that passes between them vanishes as soon as a harsh fist makes contact with her face, and suddenly she's shoved to the ground.

"Hey!"

As blinding as the pain is, Regina doesn't fail to miss Emma's returning punch. It seems to echo in the crowded mall with a resounding _crack_before the man swings at her. Emma dodges the attack in time to leap over the imposter's back, arms twined around a rugged neck as they pull back.

"Get off me!"

"Not likely, dude," Emma grits, but is taken by surprise by a sudden lurch.

She's flipped over from the man's shoulders and collapses on the ground, directly beside an equally stunned Regina.

Emma groans and reaches for her head. "What an ass," she grumbles.

"Emma," Regina mutters, struck by the amount of worry gnawing in her chest. "Are you alright?"

"Never better," she grinds out.

Emma hovers for a moment, her body reclining over Regina's almost in a protective shield as Santa stalks forward, visibly angry now behind his holiday facade. But then he stops short before Emma has the sense to tackle him from the waist. His eyes stare off into the distance, his forehead crinkling in bewilderment.

"What the f -"

"Not my daughter, you _BASTARD!_"

Both Emma and Regina watch with daunting horror as Snow runs the short distance. She appears out of nowhere and leaps, her body flying into the air before tackling Santa straight into the nearest display table. A collective gasp spreads around the scene as the table collapses upon impact.

Silence follows.

"That did not just happen," Emma whispers, her wide eyes taking in the scene in disbelief. "I can't believe that just happened."

Regina, on the other hand, snorts. Her body finally succumbs to the incredulity of it all, and she practically shakes in unrestrained laughter.

"It seems your mother isn't such a goody-two-shoes after all, Miss Swan."

..

David can't remember a time he's ever been this angry.

He tries not to mull over the period before the first curse was broken in Storybrooke, for all intents and purposes. The brief affair that had happened between Whale and his wife hadn't exactly been the highlight of his week. He had resented it enough to punch a hole straight through his bedroom door at one point, though the fact that he hadn't strangled Whale with his bare hands says more than enough.

There's also the more recent occasion of discovering his daughter is seeing a three hundred year-old pirate. While the fact doesn't bother him now as much as it once did, it's also very simple. David had _not_been happy.

And if you don't count all the other times Regina has managed to get under his nerves, David likes to think he's an overall peaceful person. Yet the anger seems to have a mind of its own, brimming beneath his skin as he takes in the sight of his wife, bearing a neck cast like it's the most common thing in the world.

His daughter, sitting quietly in the middle while throwing a ball repeatedly into the air, and then the woman who had tortured their lives for years at a time while simultaneously becoming a part of his family, looking more bored than David had ever thought possible.

This is not what he had planned for this vacation.

"What the hell were you all thinking?" David exclaims after a moment of silence, staring them down from behind the bars of the cell. "Not even three days in and you all manage to get yourselves arrested!"

"If it helps in any way," Regina says in an airy tone, "I'm just as miserable as you are, Charming."

"Unlike you, Regina, some of us don't gain a whole lot from other people's misery."

"Dad, come on," Emma interjects tiredly. "It's not like we meant for this to happen."

"You tackled Santa Clause into a coma," he points out firmly. "Snow, I don't know if you've noticed. But you have to wear a _cast_around your neck."

"Well, David. What would you have done? He was attacking our daughter."

"He groped Regina," Emma adds starkly. "And called us dykes."

Snow turns at this, her forehead scrunched in confusion. "What on earth is a dyke?"

David sighs and, shaking his head, finds he doesn't have the will to argue anymore. "I'll see what I can do about bail," he informs them. "Henry's watching Neal for the time being. Just sit tight."

When he leaves, Emma proceeds to throw her ball in the air, stopping only to glance at Regina's faintly swollen cheek.

"How's your face?" she asks, her voice laced in slight worry.

"About as painful as it is sitting here with you two idiots," Regina responds, arching a brow. "You?"

"I'll live," Emma says dully, before turning to Snow. "Mom?"

"Peachy."

She doesn't say anything else, not that Emma expects her to. Sharing a look with Regina, Emma heaves out a sigh and tosses the ball against the far wall.

And yeah. Worst vacation ever.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: **Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author: **misscanteloupe

**Rating: **M

**Summary: **When the Charmings decide to take their family out of town for the holidays, that includes a reluctant Emma and Regina. What better way to wreak havoc than some quality family bonding time? Swan Queen

**A/N: **I'm sorry about the wait guys! As I told a few people, I started a new job and that has _massively _lessened my writing time. If I'm not at work, I'm passed out. So I'll do my best to update this next weekend.

I'm also not pleased with this chapter, but I needed to get something out in the meantime. So I apologize in advance if it's not up to people's standards. Most of the time I can't tell the difference between stupid and funny.

…

"Put your hands on me again, Snow. Go on. We'll see how long you'll have them."

Snow blows out a frustrated breath as she lowers the bag of ice. Despite being in a world with no magic, she doesn't doubt Regina would find other ways to torture her needlessly for the rest of their vacation. And she would very much rather keep her hands.

"You really are the most stubborn person I've ever known," Snow huffs.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Words cannot possibly express how much I don't care," Regina snarks back.

Snow narrows her eyes for a long second before bringing the ice pack back to Regina's face, which the brunette promptly slaps away.

"Oh for goodness sake. Stop fidgeting!"

"Don't tell me what to do!"

It's at that moment that Emma appears holding three mugs in her hands, one balanced precariously against her chest, while another she passes over to Snow with a faintly amused look. Accepting the mug, Snow stands and lets out another huff.

"Thank heavens you're here. I never thought tending to someone can be this... _infuriating_," Snow exclaims with a glare in Regina's direction.

"And you're a thorn in my side spawned from the deepest pits of hell," Regina counters snidely. "But we can't all have what we want, can we?"

Snow's jaw drops in outrage. "How _rude_ -"

"_Okay,_that's enough you two," Emma interjects and steps between the both of them, glancing pointedly at Regina. "Mom, why don't you check on the roast? I'll handle this."

Snow's response comes with a sniff and one last departing glare before she stomps off. Once out of earshot, Emma turns to Regina and doesn't bother to hide her exasperation.

"Would it kill you to be nice?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Regina says. She crosses her arms and petulantly adds, "She started it."

Emma rolls her eyes, but doesn't question any further as she hands the brunette one of the two mugs. Regina can already smell the cocoa before her face twists in confusion.

Emma shrugs. "We ran out of coffee."

"Lovely."

Regina takes a sip from the concoction nonetheless, silently thanking the graces that there's no amount of cinnamon and sugary syrup mixed in, as she's sure Emma would have placed in hers. It had been a long, eventful day. The last thing she needs is a sugar high to replace the bitter enthusiasm of being punched in the face by phony Santa and thrown into jail as a result.

"So are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?" Emma inquires bluntly, with no room for discussion.

She's aware that Emma is watching her, waiting expectantly, and Regina finds she doesn't mind the staring so long as it gets Snow White far, far away from her face.

She tosses the ice bag over. "Just get on with it."

And so Emma does.

Regina barely flinches when the bag is pressed up into her swollen cheek, where she holds it down against the bruise she's sure has already taken form. It isn't until Emma's searching through the first aid kit that the silence catches up to her and Regina swallows thickly.

"I don't see what all this havoc is about. It's not like I tackled a man halfway into oblivion and resisted arrest," she mutters, gritting her teeth when Emma's hand comes back up with an alcohol swab.

"You have a cut under your eye and your face looks like something off of Grey's Anatomy," Emma counters, frowning. At this point Regina has had enough of the modern references to know not to question them. She gets the feeling that one was meant to be insulting, however. "And Snow's going to be fine. She's just..."

"Painfully and irrationally ignorant?"

"I was going to say clingy, but sure. That works, too."

Emma offers her a small smile then, like it's officially an inside joke between them that Regina doesn't actually understand. But she musters up a smile of her own when Emma simply leans over and dabs the wipe just under her eye. The sudden proximity stops Regina short. While she sucks in a sharp breath, she realizes it has nothing to do with the resulting sting.

Emma pauses and looks at her. "You okay?"

"Fine," Regina mutters tersely, trying to ignore the fact that Emma's closeness is doing strange things to her body.

It should _not _be this warm in here.

She thinks she isn't the only one feeling the effects either way, if Emma's reaction is any indication. The blonde's gaze lingers as she swallows, the strain causing Emma's throat to constrict. Regina is entirely too distracted by the movement to notice the pale hand drop from her face and fall back to Emma's side.

"That should be good," Emma finally says. Her voice is unusually hoarse.

Regina tries not to notice the silence surrounding them, of the sounds of her own rapid breathing mingling in the air.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to thank you?" Regina asks, and she means for it to sound snippy. Instead it comes out breathy and a little desperate and for god's sake. Her _lady bits _are tingling.

This is _not _how she had anticipated flirtations with your former arch nemesis would go.

"If you want."

Regina feels herself moving closer as she all but purrs out, "And what exactly did you have in mind, Emma?"

The subtle suggestion has Emma's eyes widening ever so slightly. Her gaze flicks to Regina's lips, her mouth parting in an almost response that falls dead at the sudden intrusion of music filling the air.

Luckily it isn't the pirate song that seems to exist purely for her torment. Otherwise she would have to find a way to break said pirate's neck five hundred miles from afar.

Instead it's the gentle droll of Christmas music that breaks the straining silence.

_I really can't stay_

_But baby it's cold outside_

_I've got to go 'way_

_But baby it's cold outside_

_This evening has been_

_Been hopin' that you'd drop in_

_So very nice_

_I'll hold your hands_

_They're just like ice!_

Oh for the love of -

Regina wrinkles her nose. "This song is horrid."

But Emma doesn't appear to be listening. Her eyes narrow into tiny slits as she observes the record player that had appeared out of nowhere, by the coffee table that held another one of Snow's whale decorations at one point. Emma's suspicions are only confirmed when she catches sight of the lone shoe on the floor, as if left there after a hasty departure and looks remarkably like something a twelve year old would wear.

"Henry," Emma mutters to herself.

And _okay_. So the kid has guts. She'll give him that.

"Henry?" Regina echoes in bewilderment. "What does our son have anything to do with this?"

"Nothing," Emma quickly denies. She's up and crossing the living room in silence, putting a halt to the record player before she can cringe at the song for much longer. It doesn't stop Regina's expression from turning serious, however.

Or angry. But what else is new?

"Don't 'nothing' me. What aren't you telling me?" Regina presses, somehow managing to look both intimidating and pouty, which is actually all kinds of adorable that Emma would rather not admit. Like, in a million years.

She pauses. "I -" And that's when Emma spots it, and she clenches her eyes shut. Because _fuck._This night seriously cannot get any worst.

How she hadn't even noticed the mistletoe hanging above them minutes ago is completely lost on her. But it's there, hovering above Regina's head just over the doorway, and oh man, is she going to kick his little behind.

"Kid, you are _so_ dead," she grumbles as she stalks forward, dodging Regina's burning glare.

"What," Regina hisses, "Is going on?"

"Nothing," Emma repeats unconvincingly, and she's guiding Regina away by the arm, using her free hand to snatch the mistletoe from the doorway and shove it down her shirt. "Why don't you head to the bedroom? You look like you could use some rest."

Regina snatches her arm away. "Excuse me? You don't get to tell me what to do, Swan. Now I demand you tell me what the hell is going on this instant."

"You demand, huh?"

There's another mistletoe hovering over their bedroom door. Emma eyes it nervously.

"_Yes_," Regina emphasizes and to prove her point, jabs her finger against Emma's chest. "So out with it. Does this have anything to do with you being in the 'closet'?"

She uses her fingers to air quote the word, and in an instant Emma feels all the blood drain from her face.

"What?" she chokes out.

"Henry keeps insinuating that you're stuck in a closet. Now I don't know if that is simply a strange saying in this land or some idea you keep filling into his head about Narnia, which would be found in a _wardrobe_, by the way. Not a closet," Regina explains in a deep, threatening rumble. "But if someone does not fill me in _soon_, I am going to lose. My mind."

Emma flinches. "Look, Regina -"

"_Now_."

"It's just a metaphor," Emma hastily explains, putting her palms up defensively when Regina takes a step forward. "That's all it is, I swear. Something people in this world say when someone... hasn't come out yet."

"Come out?" Regina reiterates with an annoyed snarl. "Come out _where_ exactly? The blasted _closet_?"

"The closet's the metaphor," Emma sighs, chancing another look at the mistletoe and counting herself lucky that Regina hasn't seen it yet. "When you're in there it means you haven't told anyone of, you know. Your... gayness, I guess. Or sexual preferences, if you wanna get technical."

Emma can already see the wheels turning in Regina's head. That alone makes the nervousness grow tenfold, and all thoughts of the mistletoe vanishes from her thoughts the second it seems to click in Regina's mind.

"You prefer the company of women," Regina states bluntly.

Emma could kill herself right then and there.

"I never said that."

"You don't have to, dear," Regina points out knowingly, and she has this wicked smile on her face that makes Emma's skin crawl in irritation. Or maybe it's arousal. "The fact that you practically undress me with your eyes at every opportunity is answer enough."

Emma's face goes red. "No I don't!"

"On the contrary, Emma," Regina husks before taking another step forward. "You're staring at my breasts again."

Oh.

Emma inhales sharply and tears her eyes away, clenching them shut in the process.

"In my defense, they were staring at me first."

"Uh huh."

The words don't sound anywhere near impressed, as Emma had expected when she came up with the bullshit excuse. It hadn't worked when Ted used it on 'How I Met Your Mother,' and it wouldn't work now. But the words definitely do sound closer, and Emma doesn't anticipate the proximity they find themselves in when Regina takes a step closer; close enough that she can feel the woman's body heat radiate between them.

Emma has the strongest urge to close the distance then. To push Regina through the door and rip that stupid blouse off, because stupid or not, her boobs _were_staring at Emma first. And then maybe she'd take them back to their bed, and maybe Regina would let her hike her skirt up too, and arch into her when Emma fucks her slowly and deeply.

It's that image that sends Emma's thoughts through a downward spiral... straight between her legs.

"I should, um..." Emma stutters and carefully reaches for the mistletoe over Regina's head, erasing the few inches between them in the process.

She feels rather than hears Regina's breath hitch against her cheek. Heart pounding, Emma grabs hold of the plant and takes a step back.

"I should sleep on the couch tonight," she finishes lamely, releasing a breath that leaves her lungs expanding. She rubs the back of her neck with her free hand.

"No groping, and all."

Regina simply stares at her, eyes dark. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Very well, then."

"Okay."

"_Fine_," Regina says stiffly. She huffs once more in Emma's general direction and pries open the bedroom door, where Emma catches a glimpse of that stupid blouse being torn from Regina's frame - and _not_by Emma's hands - before it slams shut in front of her.

Groaning inwardly, Emma presses her forehead against the wall. Her body feels hot to the touch. She never thought it'd be possible to explode from sexual frustration until now.

Death by blue balls. How fitting.

"You're gross," a voice says suddenly. Emma whirls around to find Henry gazing at her with the most exaggerated eye roll no twelve year should make. Like ever.

"Make a move already," he says. "Seriously. You guys are worse than grams and gramps when they're together."

"Right. Because you're so old and wise," Emma tosses back. "What the hell, kid? Did I miss the memo for Parent Trap 2.0?"

"More like Operation L Word," Henry informs her, grinning widely. "Tori came up with it."

"_Tori?_"

"Yeah. She said you and mom are like those two married women from the show, 'the L word.' A bunch of broody lesbians that need to get their shit together -"

"Their _what now?_"

Henry shrugs. "You always curse when mom isn't around."

"Yeah, but that's... that's _different_," Emma counters with an exasperated sigh, before taking the mistletoe she'd shoved down her shirt and tossing them at him. "You're _twelve, _Henry. And _this_? This is not okay. You can't just go around and mess with people's love lives. It doesn't work like that. And, I mean. Did you forget that I'm still with Killian?"

Henry's cheerful look turns serious. "Yeah. Tori calls that one Operation Twat Swat. We're working on it."

"You're... no. No no no no. First off, there's no operation _anything. You _stay out of it," Emma sternly demands. "Second off, don't you even think about saying that in front of your mom. In fact, keep anything Tori has said to you out of this trip."

"But ma -"

"No buts," Emma cuts him off. She's angry now, all feelings of arousal diminishing in time with the confusion settling in her chest.

None of this should even be happening. This was supposed to be a normal family vacation, and yet she can't go a day without her son trying to parent trap her, her mom fiddling her thumbs like some glorified soul hellbent on destruction, and Regina crushing what ever semblance of normalcy she's managed to retain in the last six weeks.

Not to mention she's destroyed like, half of Emma's panties already just by glaring at her. Including the pair she has on now.

And if that isn't a gaping opportunity to start questioning her life choices, Emma doesn't know what is.

"Kid, just... go to your room," Emma sighs, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "You're grounded."

"You can't just ground me, ma. We're on vacation."

"Then you're grounded _after_we're done with vacation," Emma snaps back, walking past him. "And I'm taking your xbox, too!"

"What? That's not fair!"

"Yeah, well. Tough luck."

She's going to get through this, Emma thinks, as Henry stomps back to his room. She has to. She's gotten through dragons and Neverland and every disney villain imaginable. She just has to survive a few more days with her psychotic fairy tale family.

Just until Christmas. And then she can ride off with no remembrance of this whole trip. Easy enough.

Right?

..

As it turns out, Emma can still suffer through more pent up frustration than should be humanly possible. The whole matter of a wet dream should take on an entirely new meaning when she wakes up with a hand down her pajama bottoms. And _god_. As if she isn't already pathetically inclined to jerk off this early in the morning. She has to fail at it, too.

She walks into the kitchen soon thereafter to find her parents are already up. David smiles when he sees her, peering up from a gurgling Neal, while Snow is, as usual, her chirpy self. Henry is sitting at the table, eating cereal and pointedly ignoring her.

"Morning, sweetheart," Snow says brightly, far too brightly for Emma's tastes. "How did you sleep?"

Emma simply grunts and falls to her seat. She twitches when she feels her slick thighs cling to her underwear. Another set of panties. Ruined.

"Well I slept wonderfully," Snow goes on cluelessly. "I was reading this magazine last night that a nice lady gave me while we were at the mall. There was an article about lesbians. Mind you, not lebanese. Anyway, I found it interesting that there's this entire code they have. Did you know that there's something called a 'femme' and 'butch' in every lesbian relationship?"

"Snow, I think those are just stereotypes," David informs her.

Snow simply waves her hand. "Don't be ridiculous, David. I watch Ellen, you know," she continues, ignorant of Henry's amused look and Emma's pained one. "They also like cats and tend to be more on the masculine side. They also like to wear something called a 'beanie.' And flannel and vests. And more flannel. A bit like what Emma wears -"

At this, Snow stops short and appears to be in deep thought before flicking her gaze to Emma.

Emma shifts in discomfort. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Snow immediately averts her gaze. "No reason," she says, but somehow her eyes drift back.

"You're _still _looking at me like that."

Snow scoffs. "I don't know what you're talking about, Emma," she lies (Emma's superpower is _definitely _tingling) before sliding a plate over the table. "Now, eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

Before Emma can accuse her of staring again, she's interrupted by the clack of heels against wooden floors, and Regina's voice sounding from entrance, "I hope you're not feeding my son Fruit Loops again, Snow. The last thing I need is him bouncing off the walls before the day's even begun."

Emma's heart drops straight to her stomach then. Her eyes rake in the sight of Regina for a long moment, who walks in dressed in a pair of leggings and skintight dress that should not be legal in any way, shape, or form. In fact, the whole idea of Regina's cleavage bouncing out from the material shouldn't be available to the general public, and accessible to Emma's eyes only. But even that doesn't erase the fact that Emma should be far, far away right now.

"Now that you mention it, Henry did bring up a good point this morning. Seems like we haven't been playing our cards right when splitting our time together," David states. "So. Snow and I decided we'd spend some time with Neal, while you three take a stroll around town. See what else is out there. Some proper family bonding time. How does that sound?"

Emma jerks her gaze to him - she doesn't even _care _that she's been staring unabashedly at Regina's chest for the last ten seconds - and crinkles her brow.

"I - _what?_"

"Articulate as ever, I see," Regina drawls, but her expression is all knowing. And Emma just _knows _by the coy look that she'd been about as subtle as a flying brick.

"I think it's great," Henry pipes up, sending an impish smile at Emma. "I get to spend the day with my _moms_. What's not to like?"

Emma narrows her eyes at him. Why that manipulative little -

"It's settled then!" David exclaims and claps his hands. "You guys get ready. Or... Emma, rather. I'll get the dishes cleaned up."

"Uh, yeah. About that -"

"What's wrong, ma?" Henry interjects, sharing a look with her that can only be described as devious. "Don't want to spend time with your own son?"

Grinding her teeth together, Emma slowly inhales and shares another look with her son. Henry simply observes her in an innocent display of nonchalance, but Emma knows better than to believe this has nothing to do with the parent trap scheme he has going. He looks so much like Regina right then. She'd be lying if she said the similarities don't kind of terrify her.

"I'll go get ready then," Emma grits out, pulling her chair back.

And just... fuck.

There's no way this is going to end well.

…

If anyone has any ideas they want to pitch off, feel free to let me know :) I mostly have the rest of the storyline planned, but no idea how to fill in the gaps. I just write as I go. So any ideas would be very much appreciated and I'll see what I can do!


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